The Prince Bride
by iwishforapinkpony
Summary: In a strange version of "The Princess Bride", when Alfred leaves to seek his fortune, a prince kidnaps his love, Arthur, who thinks Alfred is dead! Will true love prevail, or will Arthur be forced to marry Prince Francis? USXUK AlfredXArthur
1. Arthur and the Farm Boy

_I couldn't resist. I was talking to a friend about how Alfred was always the hero, and what kind of hero he'd be, when I thought of Westley from Princess Bride (the man is my ideal hero). Then the story and its characters started to click, and poof! This happened. I do hope you enjoy my choice of characters, and this story! I do not own the plot or the characters, rated T for Lovino's potty mouth, because I could not give him the part I did and not have him call people mean names…:D_

* * *

Our story begins in the country of Florin, on a small farm located near the borders of the city. On this farm lives our heroine…*whisper whisper* hero? What do you mean hero? *whisper whisper* You mean this isn't about Buttercup and Westley? Oh, I see. I know what story you're talking about! Let's try that again…

* * *

On a small farm near the borders of Florin proper, lived a man by the name of Arthur Kirkland. He was a rather simple man, whose favorite pastimes included drinking tea, embroidery, riding his horse and tormenting the farm boy that worked there. Nothing gave Arthur more pleasure than ordering Alfred around.

"Farm boy," he would say imperiously, after coming in from a long ride, "Polish my saddle. I want to see my face shining in it by morning."

"As you wish," Alfred would reply, with a small half smile.

That phrase, "as you wish", was all Alfred ever said to Arthur's demands, punctuated with a trademark half-smirk.

It grated Arthur's nerves to hear that phrase, because in his mind, Alfred was looking down on the older man. (Which he had to do anyway, and Arthur didn't like to be reminded of the height difference. But we're not here to talk about Arthur's Napoleon complex, are we?)

But soon Arthur came to realize that when Alfred said, "as you wish" what he meant was, "I love you".

And even sooner he realized that he loved Alfred too.

They were happy together, but neither had enough money for marriage, so Alfred decided to take it upon himself to journey out into the world to seek his fortune.

"Don't go," Arthur begged, "I fear I'll never see you again."

"I'll always come back for you," Alfred promised.

"How can you be sure?"

"This is true love," Alfred replied with a confident smile, "Do you think this happens every day?"

So Arthur waited patiently for his lover to return home. That is, until he got the message that Alfred's ship had been attacked by the Dread Pirate Roberts, who took no prisoners and left no one alive.

Arthur was crushed. He locked himself in his room and refused to take food or water.

"I will never love again," he swore, pulling is knees up to his chest…

* * *

Five years later, Florin Square was buzzing with excitement. Their prince, Prince Francis, was about to announce his royal engagement. They all knew of Prince Francis' preference of men over women, so it came as no surprise that he would be marrying a man. In fact, the people had taken it rather well, and were anxious to meet the man that had caught the eye of their prince.

Everyone in Florin was crammed into the square, waiting in anticipation. Soon, Prince Francis appeared on the high tower of the palace that overlooked all of Florin, blond hair shining in the sunlight, and the crowd began to cheer wildly. He held up a hand.

"My people! I stand before you today to announce my engagement to a man, who was once a commoner like yourselves! But perhaps you will not find him so common now. Would you like to meet him?"

The crowd roared a loud "YES!"

Francis smiled before calling, "I present to you, Prince Arthur!"

He gestured grandly to an archway from which a red carpet led into the square.

On cue, Arthur stepped out into the bright sunlight. He looked every inch a prince, from his perfect green tunic to the gold crown on his head. The people erupted into cheers and clamored to get a glimpse of him.

He looked up to Francis, green eyes dead.

By law, Prince Francis had the right to choose whomever he wanted as his bride, but Arthur did not even remotely love him. Ever since Alfred's disappearance five years ago, Arthur's emptiness had consumed him.

Despite Francis' many assurances that Arthur would one day grow to love him, Arthur's heart remained hard and cold. The only joy he got was in his daily ride, the one time he was free of Francis' constant attention.

But what happiness there was faded as soon as the palace gate shut behind him, locking him back in his cage.

Today, however, would be a little different.

Arthur rode out further than he had before, deeper into the woods that surrounded Florin.

It was here that he stumbled upon a curious threesome.

One was tall and well built, with violet eyes peeking out from beneath unruly pale hair. Another had tousled brown hair and a well crafted rapier around his waist. The third was short, with sharp eyes and an one odd curl that stuck out of his hair as if begging to be noticed. This man was the one who spoke.

"Excuse me, good sir," he said smoothly, "We are but poor circus performers who are looking for a place to stay. Is there a town nearby, that we may reach before dark?"

"There is nothing around for miles," Arthur responded.

A cunning smile spread across the man's lips.

"Then there will be no one to hear you scream."

He motioned to the tall man, who stepped forward, towards Arthur.

Arthur's eye's widened, and he open his mouth to scream for help, but the man promptly smacked him on the head with a pipe, knocking the poor boy out cold.

* * *

Lovino chuckled to himself as he tore at a scrap of fabric. That had been too easy!

"What is that you are doing?" his accomplice, Antonio, called, as he hauled Arthur's unconscious body into a small but well made boat.

"Putting a scrap from a soldier of the army of Guilder on the prince's saddle, so that when this horse reaches the palace, Prince Francis will suspect that Guilder is responsible for stealing his love."

He slapped the horse's rump and it galloped off towards Florin, and then hauled himself into the boat before shoving of from shore.

"And when he finds the prince's body dead on Guilder's shore, he'll have no choice but to declare war on Guilder!"

Ivan looked up from his place at the wheel.

"I didn't know we were going to be killing anybody," he said sadly.

Lovino shrugged.

"War is messy business my friend."

"I just don't think it's right, is all," Ivan protested.

Lovino barked out a laugh.

"Did I just hear you say 'I think'? I'm not paying you to think, you bastard, I'm paying you to help me start a war! Would you rather be back where you were, friendless, useless, unemployed, in RUSSIA?"

Antonio covered up a snicker with a cough. Lovino could be so irritable at times.

"And you!" Lovino cried, turning his fury towards the sound of the snicker, "When I found you, you were so slobbering drunk, you couldn't even buy brandy! Amateurs, both of you!"

He stalked angrily to the prow of the ship, pretending to be checking on Arthur to ensure he hadn't woken, but really trying to get as far away from the other two as possible.

Antonio walked over to Ivan, leaning in a bit and whispering,

"That Lovino, he can _fuss_."

Ivan thought about this for a moment."Fuss, fuss... I think he likes to scream at _us_."

Antonio smiled, glad that Ivan was willing to play along."He probably means no _harm_."

"But he's really very short on _charm_."

"You have a great gift for rhyme," Antonio said, patting his friend on the back.

"Yes, yes, some of the time," Ivan smiled back

"Enough of that!" Lovino snapped.

"Ivan, are there rocks ahead?" Antonio asked, blatantly ignoring Lovino.

"If there are, we'll all be dead!"

"No more rhymes now, you bastards, I mean it!" Lovino stamped his foot to punctuate his point."Anybody want a peanut?" Ivan teased.

"AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!" The Italian cried, throwing his hands into the air.

* * *

Day turned to night, and soon they sailed under an eerie full moon. By this time, Arthur had woken up, and was silently glaring at his captors, not yet strong enough to stand.

Antonio, however, was looking over his shoulder towards the back of the boat.

"Lovino," he asked slowly, "Are you sure that we're not being followed?"

"That would be inconceivable," Lovino scoffed, "No one from Guilder knows what we've done, and no one in Florin could catch up to us in time."

Antonio nodded uneasily, looking over his shoulder again.

"Out of curiosity, why do you ask?"

"Nothing," Antonio replied, "Just that there's a ship behind us and he's gaining."

"Inconceivable," Lovino hissed, running to look where Antonio was pointing.

There, in the pale moonlight, was the ghostly frame of a ship, just as Antonio had said.

"Probably just some fisherman out on a pleasure cruise…through eel infested waters…" Lovino chuckled weakly.

A loud splash made Lovino whirl around. Arthur had leapt overboard, and was swimming furiously away from the ship.

"Go after her!" the Italian screamed at Antonio.

"I can't swim," he replied flatly.

"I only dog paddle," Ivan shrugged apologetically.

"Then turn the ship!" Lovino cried, "We can't lose him!"

A high pitched keening made Arthur stop where he was and look around frantically.

"Do you hear that, highness?" Lovino called, "Those are the Shrieking Eels! If you don't believe me, just wait! They always get louder when they're about to feed on human flesh!"

Just as he said, the keening grew louder, and Arthur felt something, something _big_, brush against his leg.

"If you swim back now, I promise no harm will come to you! I doubt you'll get that offer from the eels!"

The keening reached an ear splitting screech as an eel raised its head from the water, mouth opened wide. It began to move swiftly towards Arthur. A rough hand yanked Arthur out of the water, just as the eel clamped its jaws shut were Arthur had once been.

Ivan plopped a sputtering and shivering Arthur down onto the wooden planks, and Lovino roughly grabbed his wrists and bound them together.

"I suppose you think you're brave, don't you, you bastard!"

"Only compared to some," Arthur growled.

Antonio threw a nervous glance over his shoulder.

"He's gaining on us!"

"Inconceivable," Lovino declared, marching over to look at the ship.

But Antonio was right. It was visibly closer. And was gaining quickly. Lovino shook his head.

"It doesn't matter. We'll be safe once we get to Guilder!"

* * *

_How was it? I had fun writing it! I really tried to preserve the original dialogue, because there are so many awesome lines! Please review!_


	2. You Seem A Decent Man

_I'm glad this story has gone over well! I meant to say this last time, but I'm sorry to anyone who doesn't approve of France being Humperdinck. I know Humperdinck's a heartless asshole, but given the circumstances, France fit the part. I mean, he already tried to force England into marrying him once, right?_

* * *

"There!" Lovino cried, perking up, "There they are! The Cliffs of Insanity!"

Antonio and Ivan looked up at the sheer face of the rock wall in front of them. It rose high into the air, nearly perpendicular to what little rocky ground surrounded it.

The boat began to pitch, and Antonio clung to the side for dear life. Lovino smirked.

"Ivan's strength will get us through these currents and over to the cliffs in no time. Our little friend with have to sail around for hours until he finds a harbor!"

He let loose a cocky laugh.

Ivan pulled the boat close to the rocky shore, where a thick rope was hanging, having been secured there beforehand by Lovino.

"Only Ivan is strong enough to get up our way!" he said adamantly.

Antonio was helping Ivan into a leather harness with three loops hanging off each of the sides and the front. He slipped one around Arthur, one around Lovino, and the last around himself. After one last check to make sure that they were all secured, Ivan began to climb, hand over hand.

Arthur squished his eyes shut. He had always been terrified of heights, and he didn't trust the strap that was holding him up.

"He's climbing the rope!" Antonio cried incredulously.

Lovino looked down.

There, next to their ship was another, the one that had been following them, and on the rope below them was a man, dressed head to toe in black, climbing the rope and gaining.

"Inconceivable," Lovino muttered, before shouting "FASTER!" in Ivan's ear.

"I thought I was going fast."

"Well not fast enough, you bastard, because he's gaining on us!"

"Well I'm carrying three people," Ivan grunted, "He's only got himself."

"I don't care, go faster!"

Arthur cracked an eye open and looked down. They were a dizzying ways away from the ground, and the man in black was hot on their heels. The man looked up for a split second, and the look on his face sent a chill down Arthur's spine.

He didn't know what the man wanted, but he knew he didn't want anything to do with it.

Meanwhile, Lovino was screaming at Ivan.

"If you don't hurry up, I'm not going to pay you!"

"Lovino, we're at the top," Antonio cut in.

"Then get up there!" Lovino demanded.

Antonio sighed and hauled himself up over the cliff's edge, pulling Arthur up after him, and then Lovino.

Arthur, who was just glad to be back on solid ground, didn't notice Lovino sawing furiously at the rope.

"What are you doing?" Antonio cried, as he tried to pull Ivan up.

"Making sure that this little game of cat and mouse ends now!" Lovino snickered.

Just as Ivan gained his footing on the rocky cliff, the rope snapped and fell. Lovino ran to the edge to see if his plan had worked.

To his amazement, the man in black was still clinging to the cliff face, and attempting to climb.

"He didn't fall?" Lovino screeched, "Inconceivable!"

"You keep using that word," Antonio noted, "I do not think it means what you think it means."

Lovino shot a nasty glare at the Spaniard.

"Then you stay here. If he falls, fine, if not, the sword!"

He yanked a still breathless Arthur to his feet and shoved him into Ivan. Arthur glared at his captor silently. Lovino smirked.

"Well aren't you terrifying, you little bastard! Come on, let's keep moving."

Ivan turned to his friend.

"Be careful. Men in masks cannot be trusted."

"I know," Antonio glowered.

"Come on, you big oaf!" Lovino shouted to Ivan.

He began to stomp off towards Guilder, when Antonio called,

"I'm going to fight him left-handed."

Lovino spun on his heel.

"Why? You know how much of a hurry we're in!"

"Well," Antonio shrugged, "If I use my right hand, it will be over too quickly."

"Fine," Lovino huffed, curl bobbing in irritation, "Do it your way, you bastard."

With that he stalked off, Ivan and Arthur in tow.

Antonio peeked over the edge of the cliff. The man in black was struggling, but had managed to gain some distance.

"I do not suppose you could speed things up?"

The man snorted.

"I'm sorry, but this is kinda difficult. If you're in such a hurry, you could throw me a rope or lower a branch or find something useful to do."

"I do have some rope up here, and I would, but I don't think you'd accept my help, since I'm only waiting around to kill you!" Antonio replied cheerfully.

"Well that puts a damper on our relationship," the man quipped, with a cocky smirk on his face.

Antonio snickered and backed up. He began to stretch and draw his sword, and put it back and draw it again. After a few moments of this, he frowned and walked back over to the edge.

"Is it to late to throw you the rope? I promise not to kill you until you reach the top!"

"That's _very_ comforting, but I'm afraid you're just gonna hafta wait."

"I hate waiting," Antonio grumbled, but then perked up, "What if I gave you my word as a Spaniard?"

"No good," the man grunted, "I've known too many Spaniards."

"Is there anything I can say that can get you to trust me?" he pleaded.

"Nothing comes to mind."

Antonio frowned again and sat down, looking at the edge every now and then.

The man in black saw the Spaniard's head pop over the edge once more, expression serious.

"I swear on the life of my father, Domingo Hernandez, that you will reach the top alive," he swore gravely.

The man was silent for a moment.

"Throw me the rope."

Soon the man was on top of the cliff. The moment he was up, his hand was on his sword.

"No, no," Antonio waved his hands, "We'll wait until you are ready."

"Thank you."

The man seemed surprised.

As he caught his breath Antonio took a seat on the rocks across from him.

"I do not mean to pry, but do you know a man who wears a white domino(1)?"

"Do you always begin conversations this way?"

"A man wearing a white domino killed my father."

"I'm sorry," the man said sincerely, "but I've never met anyone who wears one. May I ask what happened?"

Antonio nodded.

"My father was a master swords smith. The man in the mask came into my father's store and requested a sword unlike any other. My father slaved for a year until it was done," he pulled out the sword from its sheath to show the man in black, "When the man in the mask returned he demanded the sword, but at one tenth his promised price. Naturally, my father refused him. The man in the mask stabbed him straight through the heart, no mercy. I loved my father. So I challenged his murderer to a duel. I fell. The man in the mask left me alive, but he gave me these."

He pointed to each of his cheeks, where a fine line could be seen.

"How old were you?"

"Eleven. When I was strong enough, I devoted my life to the study of fencing. So the next time we meet, I will not fall. I will say to him, 'Hello, my name is Antonio Hernandez. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

"You've done nothing but study swordplay?" the man was intrigued.

"Well, pursue more than study…but it's been twenty years and I'm starting to lose confidence. There's not a lot of money in revenge. I just work with Lovino to pay the bills."

The man stood up, hand on his sword.

"I hope you find him someday."

"You are ready then?"

"Whether I am or not, you've been more than fair," the man smirked.

"You seem a decent man. I hate to kill you," Antonio smiled.

"You seem a decent man. I hate to die."

Their blades met in a flash of silver. Back and forth. Thrust. Jab. Parry. Neither give an inch.

"You are using Bonetti's Defense against me, ah?" Antonio called over the din.

"I thought it fitting, considering the rocky terrain."

"Naturally, you must suspect me to attack with Capa Ferro?"

"Naturally... but I find that Thibault cancels out Capa Ferro. Don't you?"

"Unless the enemy has studied his Agrippa... which I have."

Back and forth still.

"You are wonderful!" Antonio cried joyously.

"I've worked hard to become so," the man replied.

"I'll admit it, you're better than I am," Antonio laughed.

"Then why are you smiling?"

"Because I know something you don't know."

"Oh?"

"I am not left handed!" Antonio switched hands and began attacking, fiercer than before.

The man started to lose ground.

"You're amazing," he commented.

"I should be, after twenty years!"

"But there's something I should tell you. I'm not left handed either!"

He switched hands as well, and they were back on even ground again, but not for long.

In one swift move, the man knocked Antonio's sword out of his hands.

Antonio ran to grab it, but the man was faster. He blocked Antonio's way, sword pointed at the Spaniard's chest. Antonio held up his hands.

"You've beaten me. Kill me quickly."

"I could never kill a hero like you. But, seeing as I can't have you following me-"

He smacked Antonio on the head, knocking him out cold.

"I hope you can forgive me," the man apologized, before turning to follow the footprints left by Lovino and Ivan.

* * *

_(1) Domino- small rounded mask covering the eyes and the space between them, usually worn during Carnival, better known as a masquerade mask._

_I can't tell you how many times when I wanted to put "Lovi" and "Toni" for Lovino and Antonio, and "her" where I was supposed to put "his" for Arthur! I'm sorry, Artie, but you make a very good girl!_


	3. A Battle of Wits, Then?

_Yay! New chapter! I swear, this is all I've been working on for the past few days. Feel free to skip Lovino's long-winded speech up ahead, but it was such a good scene between Vizzini and Westley that I couldn't cut it out or abridge it._

* * *

The man in black was gaining on them, and Lovino couldn't be any angrier.

"How did the bastard beat Antonio?" he fumed.

"I just hope Antonio's alright," Ivan sighed.

Lovino turned to Ivan.

"You. Finish him. Finish him your way. I'll take the prince and keep heading towards Guilder."

"Oh, alright!…Er…what's my way, again?"

"Hide behind the rock, wait for the man in black to come round the bend, and when he does, smack him in the head with your pipe!" Lovino said as if it were dead obvious.

"Oh, my way!" Ivan's brow furrowed, "My way's not very fair."

Lovino sighed in exasperation, pulling Arthur along to Guilder.

"I hope that man offs the lot of you," Arthur grumbled.

"Shut up," Lovino snapped, "Like he'll be any nicer to you if he manages to kill us. He's probably hoping to hold you for ransom, and if that man is who I think he is, you'd better hope he doesn't get his hands on you before I kill you."

"And just who do you think he is?" Arthur demanded, trying to stay calm.

"Like I'd tell you, highness."

* * *

"It was a magnificent duel," Prince Francis commented, looking at the footprints in the dust from atop his horse.

"What happened to the contenders?" Count Adnan, his right-hand-man inquired.

Francis scanned the ground.

"The loser ran off that way," he pointed, "and the winner followed those footprints towards Guilder."

"Shall we tail them both, sir?"

"No, the winner is the one I want. The winner will have Prince Arthur with him."

With a swift kick, he urged his pure white horse towards Guilder.

* * *

The man in black saw a field of boulders approaching. This would be the perfect place for an ambush, so he slowed his pace and stayed wary…

CRASH!

A lead pipe was wedged deep into the boulder next to him, quivering not far from his face.

A tall man with startling violet eyes stepped out, and effortlessly yanked the pipe from the rock face.

The man in black could clearly see that it had been buried inches deep. Not a comforting sight.

"I did not have to miss," the Ivan said.

"I believe you," the man in black gulped, "So what happens now?

"We fight each other as God intended. Sportsmanlike. No tricks, no weapons, skill against skill alone, da?"

"So you put down your pipe and I put down my sword and we try to kill each other like civilized people?"

"I could kill you now," he raised his pipe with an eerie smile.

The man slowly put his sword on the ground. Ivan haphazardly tossed the pipe behind him.

"I think the odds are slightly in your favor when it comes to hand-to-hand combat," he said warily.

"It's not my fault I'm bigger and stronger than you are," Ivan replied with a smile.

The man sank into a feral crouch, and then charged at Ivan, wrapping is arms around the giant's waist and shoving as hard as he could.

After a few moments, Ivan took a step backward.

The man let go and backed up.

"You're just messing with me, aren't you?" he accused.

"I just want you to feel you're doing well," Ivan said, still smiling.

He leaned forward and took a swing at the man in black, who rolled out of the way. Ivan advanced on the man, taking swings every now and then. The man dodged them all expertly.

"Why do you wear a mask?" Ivan asked, by way of conversation, "Did you get burned or something?"

"No, they're just terrible comfortable," the man replied with a smirk, "I think everyone will be wearing them eventually."

In one deft move, the man climbed up a nearby rock and latched himself to the giant's back, arms locked around his throat.

"You're quick, da?" Ivan gasped.

He stumbled backwards, slamming the man into a boulder.

The man didn't let go.

Ivan backed up again and again, but the man didn't let go. Instead, his grip got tighter.

"I think I figured out why you're giving so much trouble," Ivan wheezed.

"And why is that?"

"I haven't fought…just one person…in so long…"

"What difference does it make?"

"Well…you use…different moves when…you're fighting big groups…and when you're only fighting…one person…"

With that, he fell to the ground.

The man in black let go and rolled the giant over.

"I don't envy you the headache you're going to have," he told the unconscious man.

Grabbing his sword, he ran in the direction of Guilder.

* * *

"Someone has beaten a giant!" Francis cried, looking at the boulder strewn field.

"Surely whoever it is that is after the Prince is a dangerous man," Count Adnan commented idly.

"This is not a joke, Sadiq," Francis snapped, "We must secure the prince at all costs!"

Count Adnan bowed.

"Your wish is my command, your majesty."

* * *

"Stop right there!"

The man in black halted.

Sitting not to far away from him was Prince Arthur, blindfolded and with a dagger to his throat. The man holding the dagger was smiling triumphantly.

"Come any closer and I end his life here and now!"

The man in black walked closer.

"I'll kill him! Don't think I won't!" Lovino threatened, pressing the dagger closer to Arthur's neck. Arthur stiffened.

The man stopped again.

Lovino smiled.

"So it is down to you, and it is down to me. I'm no match for your skill, and you are no match for my brains."

"You're that smart?" the man in black pretended to be interested.

Lovino was not amused.

"Let me put it this way, have you ever heard of Plato, Socrates, Aristotle?"

"Yes."

"Morons."

"Really?" the man faked surprise, "Then I challenge you to a battle of wits."

"For the prince?" Lovino asked.

The man nodded.

"To the death?"

He nodded again.

"I accept!"

"Then pour the wine," the man said, nodding towards the wine bottle Lovino had next to him.

Lovino rolled his eyes and produced two wine goblets, pouring a generous amount of wine into each.

The man produced a small vial filled with white powder. He held it out to Lovino.

"Inhale, but don't touch it."

Lovino did so.

"I smell nothing," he scoffed.

"What you are not smelling is called iocane powder. It is odorless, tasteless, and dissolves instantly in liquid."

The man in black picked up both wine goblets and turned around. He turned back, showing Lovino the empty vial, and setting one goblet in front of himself and the other in front of Lovino.

"Where is the poison? The battle of wits has begun."

"But it's so simple," Lovino snickered, "All I have to do is divine from what I know of you: are you the sort of man who would put the poison into his own goblet or his enemy's? Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me."

"You've made your decision then?"

"Not remotely. Because iocane comes from Australia, as everyone knows, and Australia is entirely peopled with criminals, and criminals are used to having people not trust them, as you are not trusted by me, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you!" Lovino declared.

"Truly, you have a dizzying intellect," the man in black said, humoring the Italian.

"Wait til I get going! Now, where was I?"

"Australia."

"Yes, Australia. And you must have suspected I would have known the powder's origin, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me."

"You're just stalling now," the man challenged.

"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you, you bastard?" Lovino shouted, "You've beaten my giant, which means you're exceptionally strong, so you could've put the poison in your own goblet, trusting on your strength to save you, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But, you've also bested my Spaniard, which means you must have studied, and in studying you must have learned that man is mortal, so you would have put the poison as far from yourself as possible, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me."

"You're trying to trick me into giving away something. It won't work," the man smirked.

Lovino practically exploded."IT HAS WORKED!" he cried "YOU'VE GIVEN EVERYTHING AWAY! I KNOW WHERE THE POISON IS!""Then make your choice."

"I will, and I choose - What in the world can that be?" He pointed to something beyond the man's shoulder.

The man turned.

Lovino switched the goblets.

"What? Where? I don't see anything."

The man turned back."Well, I- I could have sworn I saw something. No matter. First, let's drink. Me from my glass, and you from yours," Lovino picked up his glass and smiled at the both took generous swigs from their goblets.

"You guessed wrong," the man said.

"You only think I guessed wrong! That's what's so funny! I switched glasses when your back was turned! Ha ha! You fool! You fell victim to one of the classic blunders - The most famous of which is 'never get involved in a land war in Asia' - but only slightly less well-known is this: 'Never go against a Sicilian when death is on the line'!"

He started to cackle madly.

The man in black never lost his cocky smile.

Lovino's eyes widened mid-laugh, and he fell over, dead.

The man in black went over to Arthur and removed the blindfold, and cut away the ropes around his hands and feet.

"Who are you?" Arthur demanded as soon as the blindfold was off.

"No one to be messed with," the man replied.

Arthur couldn't believe it.

"So the poison was in your cup the whole time," he whispered.

"They were both poisoned," the man in black replied, "I spent the last few years building an immunity to iocane powder."

With that, he took the prince by the hand and led him along the path towards Guilder.

* * *

"Iocane powder!" Francis declared, "I bet my life on it! And there is the poor soul that drank it!"

He motioned to Lovino, face still frozen mid-laugh.

"And there are the Prince's footprints!" he cried, "Mon dieu, I only hope that he is still alive when we find him, for if he is otherwise, I shall be very put out."

* * *

_Woot! Another chapter done! Gotta love that line: "If she's dead, I'll be very put out". No 'I'm gonna go kill whoever murdered her', just 'I'll be very put out.' Aaaaaaah...I hate Humperdink. But I still love you, you bloody frog, for you are where I get my pervertedness from! Please review. Reviews make authors very happy!_


	4. I Know Who You Are!

_*le gasp!* The man in black is revealed! I'm so glad he has a name now, not just "that guy". I do hope you enjoy._

* * *

The man in black dragged Arthur along the top of the ravine. He noticed that his partner was running short on breath, and came to a halt.

"Catch your breath," he told the prince.

"If you'll release me," Arthur gasped, "Whatever you ask for, you'll get it, I promise you!"

The man in black laughed a hard, cruel laugh.

"And what is that worth? The promise of a royal," he scoffed.

Arthur frowned.

"I was giving you a chance. Despite what you may think, you _will_ be caught. There's no one who can hunt like Prince Francis. He can track a falcon on a cloudy day, he can find you!" he threatened.

"You think your dearest love will save you?" the man in black teased.

"I never said he was my dearest love!"

"Then you don't love him?"

"He knows I don't love him."

"Or incapable of love, probably," the man replied with a cruel smirk.

"I have loved deeper than a killer like you could ever imagine!" Arthur shouted, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

The man in black's hand flew up as if to slap Arthur. The prince flinched, but the blow never came.

"That was a warning, highness," the man said quietly, "The next time my hand flies on its own. Where I come from there are penalties when people lie."

Arthur opened his mouth to fight back, but the man gave him a threatening glance that shut him up. The man in black grabbed Arthur's wrist and pulled him along.

* * *

Prince Arthur was getting tired again. The man in black stopped again and dropped his hold on Arthur's wrist.

As Arthur struggled to catch his breath, he managed to choke out.

"I know who you are!"

He saw the man's eyes widen behind his mask.

"Your cruelty reveals everything! You're the Dread Pirate Roberts, admit it!" he accused.

The man bowed, with a look of relief on his face that puzzled Arthur.

"With pride. What can I do for you?"

"You can die slowly, cut into a thousand pieces and fed to the dogs," Arthur seethed.

"Now, now highness," Roberts admonished, "Why are you so angry at me?"

"You killed him!" Arthur cried, tearing up again.

"Who?" Roberts asked, smiling slightly, "Another royal? Ugly? Handsome? Rich?"

"No. A poor man, a farm boy!" he snapped, but then his voice softened, "Poor and perfect, with eyes like the sea after a storm…"

His small form slumped, head bowed, so that Roberts could not see him crying. Suddenly, his head snapped back up.

"On the high seas, your ship attacked, and the Dread Pirate Roberts never takes prisoners!"

"Well, I can't afford to let people live," Roberts replied nonchalantly, "I'm a fearsome pirate! Once people hear you've gone soft, it's nothing but work, work, work, all the time."

"You mock my pain!" Arthur shouted with venom.

"Life is pain!" Roberts shouted back, "Anyone who tells you otherwise is selling something."

There was a silence. Roberts appeared deep in thought.

"I think I remember this farm boy of yours," he said, "This would be what, five years ago?"

He glanced at Arthur.

"Does it hurt to hear?"

"Nothing you could say could ever hurt me," Arthur said, throwing back his shoulders.

"He died well, that should be some comfort," Roberts said, pacing, "No bribe attempts, or blubbering. He simply said: 'Please. Please, I need to live'."

He turned back to Arthur.

"It was the 'please' that caught my attention. I asked him what he had that was worth living for. 'True love,' he said. And then he spoke of someone so uniquely beautiful and faithful, I can only assume he meant you. You should be glad I ended his life before he found out what you really are."

"And what am I?" Arthur demanded.

Roberts spun on his heel and looked Arthur dead in the eyes.

"Faithfulness, he spoke of, _sir_, your enduring faithfulness. Tell me, when you found out he was dead, did you get engaged the next hour or did you wait a week out of respect for the dead?"

"You mocked me once, don't do it again!" Arthur roared, "I DIED THAT DAY!"

Roberts turned around and shook his head.

"You can die to for all I care!" Arthur said darkly, pushing Roberts over the edge of the ravine.

"As…you…wish…!" Roberts called as he tumbled to the bottom.

Arthur froze, tears forming anew.

"Alfred…? ALFRED! Oh, what have I done?"

He began to climb down the side of the ravine to where Alfred's body had stopped, but he lost his footing and fell.

* * *

Alfred looked around wearily. His mask had fallen off and was lying not to far from him. Arthur hadn't lost his fire, that was good. He turned his head, trying to ignore the pain in his neck.

Arthur was lying on the ravine floor!

Alfred summoned what strength he could and scrambled over to him, cradling his lover's body in his arms.

Arthur smiled weakly up at him.

"Can you move?" Alfred asked frantically.

"Move? You're alive! If you want, I could fly," he replied, sitting up and hugging Alfred.

Alfred squeezed Arthur tightly.

"Why didn't you wait for me? I told you I'd always come for you."

"You were dead," Arthur replied sadly, "And because of those stupid laws, I couldn't say no to Francis."

Alfred pulled back, and put a hand on Arthur's face.

"Death can't stop true love," he said, smirking softly, "It can only slow it down a bit."

Arthur couldn't help but smile.

"I'll never doubt again," he swore.

"You won't have to," Alfred said softly, pulling Arthur's face closer to his own.

The kiss was everything Arthur had been missing.

It was soft and sweet, but there was an underlying neediness in the way Alfred's mouth moved.

Arthur knew it. He needed it too.

He tangled his fingers in Alfred's soft blond hair, trying to taste more of the man.

Alfred responded, licking Arthur's lips slowly.

Arthur moaned, giving Alfred time to slip his tongue in and play with Arthur's own wet muscle.

The sound of horses broke the moment.

They pulled apart, both flushed and breathing heavily.

Alfred looked up, and there was Prince Francis, scanning the top of the ravine.

"Ha! Your frog fiancé is too late! Just a few more steps, and we'll be safe in the Fire Swamp!"

Arthur looked at him like he'd lost every bit of his mind.

"Are you daft? We'll never make it out of there alive!"

"You're just saying that because no one ever has!" Alfred said with his trademark smirk.

* * *

Movement on the ravine floor caught Francis' eye.

He saw the slight form of Prince Arthur, running alongside a man dressed in black.

"They're headed to the Fire Swamp!" he cried.

"What shall we do, your highness?" one of his soldiers inquired.

The Prince bit his lip.

"We'll cut them off. Half of you men stay here, the other half, come with me!"

* * *

Alfred had one hand on Arthur's waist and the other on his sword, swinging and slicing through the vines. They stopped for a moment so Alfred could rest.

"You know, it's really not that bad," he commented idly.

"Are you off your trolley?" Arthur cried incredulously, "We're in the middle of the bloody Fire Swamp!"

"Well I'm not saying I'd like to build a summer home here, but the trees are actually pretty nice," he grinned.

Arthur sighed and shook his head, and then his brows furrowed.

"You never did tell me how you survived," he said, "From the Dread Pirate Roberts, I mean. And you can't be the _real_ Dread Pirate Roberts, can you? He's been sailing for almost twenty years."

"Well, it happened almost exactly as I told you," Alfred responded, "I asked him to let me live. He looked at me funny, and motioned for me to follow him. I was given a room on his ship and jobs to do, and every night he'd say: 'Good night, Alfred. Sleep well, I'll most likely kill you in the morning.' This went on for years, and soon I got to be really close to the crew, and they taught me all sorts of things: fencing, melee, how to tie a knot, how to spit really far off the side of the ship-"

"That's disgusting!" Arthur cried.

"But handy when you're betting," Alfred responded, laughing a bit, "But one day, Roberts called me to his cabin. He looked around to make sure no one was listening, and then said, 'Alfred, I have a secret for you. I'm not the Dread Pirate Roberts.' As it turns out, his name was Tim, and the man he inherited the title from wasn't the Dread Pirate Roberts either. The real Roberts has a summer home somewhere in Spain, and is living very comfortably as a farmer. But Tim sat me down and told me that he wanted to pass his title on to me. See, it's just the name that matters. No one would surrender to the Dread Pirate Alfred. So we docked, he dismissed his crew, got together a whole new one, and he stayed on as first mate, calling me Roberts. Then he left, and I've been the Dread Pirate Roberts ever since!"

He looked at Arthur in anticipation.

"I'm not sure whether to be proud of you, or slap you silly for not coming to get me earlier," Arthur said, and then asked the question that had been weighing heavily on his heart,

"Why didn't you come for me?"

"When I heard that you were engaged to Francis, I lost hope for a while," Alfred admitted, "I mean, it really hurt to hear that you had..." he trailed off.

"But one day, in the shipyards, I heard that Italian talking about how he was planning to kidnap you and kill you to start a war between Florin and Guilder. I couldn't let it slip by me, no matter what."

He looked down at his feet.

"And even if you didn't want to see me, I at least wanted to know that you were alright."

Arthur balled his hands into fists, and then promptly smacked Alfred upside the head.

"You git!" he cried, "Of course I'd want to see you! I love you!"

Alfred held his head and stared.

"I waited for years hoping that the story wasn't true, that you were still alive! There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't miss you," Arthur sniffed.

Alfred smiled softly, and pulled Arthur into a warm hug.

"I'm sorry I was late," he murmured.

"Stupid git," Arthur mumbled into Alfred's chest, and then looked up, "What happens now?"

"We get out of here, I find someone to pass the name 'Roberts' to, and we live happily ever after where Francis will never find us," Alfred said with confidence.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Like I keep telling you, this is true love! Everything has to turn out alright!"

"I only hope that works," Arthur muttered looking around at the darkness of the swamp.

* * *

_Woot woot! Things never got _that_ racy in the movie! But really, this was USXUK. I couldn't _not_ have them snogging. How'd I do? I wasn't to sure about it at first, but I really wanted to try!_


	5. The Pit of Despair

_Huzzah for the Princess Bride! I love this story to death and it is so much fun to write! Many thanks to BrazilianMafioso_ _for being such a loyal reader/reviewer! Your reviews really make my day, hon. ;D_

* * *

The Fire Swamp was not kind to our heroes. Arthur managed to discover two of the three great dangers of the Fire Swamp, and all entirely by accident.

As they were walking along, Arthur was becoming increasingly more and more fearful. The noises the swamp made were unsettling.

Pop!

Hiss! Crack!

Pop! Pop!

FWOOMP!

A huge jet of flame shot up right next Arthur, catching his tunic on fire and singing his eyebrows.

He let out a very undignified shriek and started beating at his clothes in panic.

"Arthur, calm down!" Alfred shouted, grabbing hold of the frantic prince and tearing away the burning fabric.

The skin underneath was slightly pink, but no real damage had been done.

That didn't stop Arthur from panicking, of course.

"How are we going to survive in here? I almost got burned! Alfred, what are we going to do?" his voice was rising higher and higher with every word.

"Arthur, just relax!" Alfred said, grabbing Arthur's shoulders, "We'll make it out of here, but you have to calm down."

"Okay," Arthur sniffed, clearly not calm.

They walked on, and for every pop! Pop! FWOOMP! Alfred managed to whisk Arthur out of the way just in time.

And though Arthur was grateful to be removed from the spots of certain death, he didn't like the feeling of helplessness.

Pop! Pop!

FWOOMP!

"I can walk by myself!" Arthur insisted, pulling free from Alfred's grasp.

He didn't take anymore than two steps when the Swamp floor swallowed him up.

"Arthur!" Alfred cried.

Looking around frantically, he grabbed hold of a vine and dove in after him.

* * *

A rodent of most unusual size was sniffing, scenting the air.

It smelled human meat, odd for the Fire Swamp.

The trail led straight to the Pit of Lightning Sands before it ran cold.

The humans had fallen into it. No meat for the rat tonight.

* * *

A hand burst out from the ground, followed by an arm, and then a head, and eventually, two bodies.

Arthur lay on the ground, panting and coughing up sand.

"We're not going to make it," he gasped, hacking violently.

Alfred helped Arthur up.

"Don't talk like that. We've already come so far! I mean, what are the three terrors of the Fire Swamp? The flame spurts, but those make a popping noise before they fire, so we know where they'll be,"-Pop! Pop! FWOOMP!- "The Lightning Sands, which you've discovered, so we're past that, and we're practically out of the Swamp!" he pointed to where daylight filtered through the leaves.

"But Alfred, what about the R.O.U.S.'s?"

"Rodents of Unusual Size? I don't think they exist."

As if the universe loved to prove Alfred wrong, an R.O.U.S. launched itself at Alfred from atop one of the trees.

Alfred fell back on the ground, his sword knocked loose from it sheathe and lying just out of reach.

They rolled around on the forest floor in a flurry of fists, fur, and teeth.

The rat managed to sink its teeth deep into Alfred's shoulder, and he let out a cry of pain. He managed to kick the rat off of him and scrambled to get his sword.

He stabbed the rat once, twice.

Pop! Pop!

He grabbed the rat and flung it.

FWOOMP!

The rat gave a cry, then lay still.

Alfred sank to his knees, breathing heavily.

Arthur ran over.

"Oh God, are you alright?" he asked, but then backtracked a bit, "I mean, are you going to be okay?"

Alfred gave a weak chuckle.

"For having just fought off a giant rat, I feel fantastic!" he said, trying to be cheerful, but grimacing in pain.

"You moron," Arthur mumbled, helping Alfred to his feet, "Let's just get out of here and get you help."

* * *

The sunlight was bright as they stumbled out of the Fire Swamp.

"You see, I told you we'd be alright!" Alfred said, smiling.

Just then, horses appeared in the clearing.

"Surrender!" Prince Francis cried.

"You mean you want to surrender to me? Okay, I accept," Alfred replied.

Francis laughed.

"Cute. But I want _you _to surrender to _me_."

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't do that."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Francis sighed.

Arthur could see men with crossbows hiding in the trees, their arrows pointed at Alfred.

"Will you promise not to hurt him?"

"What was that?" Francis asked, not able to believe his ears.

"What was that?" Alfred repeated, turning to face Arthur.

Arthur kept his eyes trained on Prince Francis.

"Alfred is a sailor on the ship _Revenge_. If we surrender, and I go back with you, will you take him to his ship and leave him alone?"

"What are you doing?" Alfred hissed.

"We'd never be able to fight them off, not while you're injured," Arthur whispered, "I almost lost you to death once, I'm not going to let that happen again. Not while I can save you."

"But Arthur…"

"I swear it shall be done," Francis vowed solemnly, breaking into their conversation, "Come, Arthur."

Arthur walked over, and Francis pulled him up onto his horse. He threw one last glance at Alfred.

"Come, sir," Count Adnan said, "We must get you to your ship."

"We're men of action, aren't we? Lies don't suit us," Alfred replied.

Count Adnan adjusted his mask a bit and smiled.

Alfred's eyes widened.

"You're wearing a white domino," he commented, "I know a man who's looking for you."

Sadiq's smile turned to a frown. He drew his sword and smacked Alfred on the head.

"Take him to the Pit," he commanded.

* * *

Gilbert had been working for the Prince and Count Adnan for some time now, as keeper of the Pit of Despair. But in a country like Florin, where everyone was happy, there weren't many who needed to go to the Pit.

So imagine Gilbert's joy when he found out that Count Adnan had a special case that only he in all his awesomeness could deal with.

He made his way into the Pit, letting his eyes adjust to the low candlelight, and spotted a man on the wooden torture table.

"Vat a let down," he muttered.

He been hoping for someone big and strong, someone who'd be fun to break! But it was just some random guy with a banged up shoulder.

Well, Count Adnan had said the man was injured. Maybe he'd be some fun when he woke up.

Gilbert made his way down the steep staircase to the table and started cleaning the his wound. The man stirred.

"Where am I?" he muttered.

"You're in ze Pit of Despair," Gilbert rasped, and then cleared his throat, "Don't even think of escaping, got that? Only ze Count und ze Prince und ze awesome me know how to get here!"

"So I'm going to be tortured?" he asked.

Gilbert nodded.

"Then why are you patching me up?"

"Because the Count likes his victims to be vell before ve started ze torture!" Gilbert cackled.

Alfred didn't like the sound of that.

* * *

Francis and Sadiq strolled through the forest.

"You know, I thought that when I hired Lovino to start a war, it would have gone much better than that," Francis sighed, "But now I suppose I'll just have to do it myself. It will be wonderful to strangle Arthur myself on our wedding night!"

Sadiq laughed.

"We're starting Alfred on the machine today," he said by way of conversation, "Would you like to join us?"

"Sadiq, you know how much I love to watch you work, but I've got my country's anniversary to plan, my wife to murder, and Guilder to blame for it. I'm swamped!" he said with fake sadness.

Sadiq replied with equal falseness, patting his friend on the shoulder.

"Get some rest, friend. If you haven't got your health, then you haven't got anything."

Francis smiled in return before walking back to the castle.

"Now where is that secret knot?" Sadiq muttered, tapping the side of a large tree.

On tap earned him what he was looking for. A gap appeared in the bark of the tree, big enough for a man to fit through, leading deep underground.

He walked into his private torture chamber, taking in the sight of his beautiful Machine.

Gilbert had just finished strapping Alfred to a series of tubes and wires connected to this gargantuan beast.

"Gilbert, is Alfred…ready?" he asked with a wicked smirk.

"Whatever you're going to do, I can take it," Alfred growled.

"Oh, how cute. But no matter what you think, you won't survive the Machine," Sadiq said, pacing slowly over to Alfred, "You see, the Machine does not just break you. It will suck out your very life."

Alfred never lost his determined look.

"You don't believe me?" Count Adnan asked, faking shock, "Very well, I'll teach you to believe me. One year at a time."

He walked over to the Machine and pulled a lever, eyes gleaming beneath his mask. The Machine began to move. Wheels turned, sparks flew, and for the first time in Alfred's life, he opened his mouth and screamed louder than he ever had.

* * *

_I HATE THAT SCENE! I still can't watch it…and I really didn't want to do that to Alfred! But seriously folks. Yes, I made Prussia the albino. See, therein lies my logic! Albino=albino!_


	6. I Need the Man in Black

_WAAAAAAAA! I still feel guilty about torturing Alfred…being of the US of Awesome myself, I don't like the thought of America getting hurt…I know, I know, it's stupid, but still, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! I'M SORRY ALFRED!_

* * *

Francis' father, the king, passed away that night.

Because Francis was to become king, and needed a…well…someone to rule with him, the marriage was quickened and Francis and Arthur were married the next day.

Arthur had to meet his subjects once again, but this time as their king.

"I present, King Arthur!" Francis cried.

Arthur stepped into the bright sunlight as he had done only days before, but this time, the crowd was stony silent.

One woman stepped forward.

"How could you?" she screeched, "You had love in your hands and you threw it all away! How could you do such a thing?"

"They would have killed him," Arthur protested, shocked by this old woman's outburst.

"And where is he now? Alone, without you? You could have at least died together instead of living apart!"

Arthur sat bolt upright in bed. It was still ten days until the wedding. It had just been a dream…

He stormed into Francis' room.

"It comes to this," he panted, "I love Alfred. I love him more than anything else in the whole world. Let me go. Let me go back to him or I swear I'll be dead by morning!"

Francis was silent for a moment.

"I could never do anything to upset you," he conceded, "Consider the wedding off!"

He walked over to Arthur.

"But are you sure that he still wants you? You were the one who left him at the Fire Swamp."

"Alfred will come for me," Arthur replied stubbornly.

"Very well," Francis sighed, "You write four copies of the same letter, and I'll send my four fastest ships out, one in each direction. The Dread Pirate Roberts is usually near Florin this time of year, so we'll run up the white flag, deliver your message, and _if_ he still wants you he can come back and I wish you two all the best. But if he doesn't…please consider me as an alternative to suicide?"

Arthur nodded once before stalking off.

* * *

The day of the wedding drew closer and closer. Though Francis himself was going to murder Arthur, he wanted to keep the appearance that he had tried everything he could to stop it.

His captain of the guard walked into his office, bowed once, and walked over to Prince Francis' desk.

"You called, sir?"

"Yes. I have received word that Guilder is making an attempt to kill Arthur on our wedding night, and that some of their men are hiding in the Thieves' Forest," Francis told him.

"My spies have received no such word," the captain replied.

"Arthur will not be killed," Francis insisted, "I want every precaution taken. Empty the Thieves' Forest on our wedding day."

"That will take a brute squad, sir," the captain said.

"Then form a brute squad!" Francis cried, "Do whatever you must, just empty it! I want Arthur safe at all costs!"

"Yes sir."

* * *

They day of the wedding arrived, and true to Francis' orders, the Thieves' Forest was emptied. Naturally, the thieves put up a struggle, but one in particular is important to our story.

"Sir!" a guard cried, "There's a Spaniard giving us some trouble!"

Near a run down shack at the edge of the thieves' encampment, Antonio was on the ground, surrounded by empty bottles.

"You have to come with us, now!" a guard shouted at him.

"I'm waiting for Lovino!" Antonio growled.

"Who?"

"He said that if everything fell apart, I should go back to the beginning and wait for him! Everything fell apart, so now I'm back at the beginning!" he raised his bottle in a toast.

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to come with me!" the guard snapped.

"I'm waiting for _Lovino_!"

"He isn't coming back, _you know,_" a familiar voice said.

"Oh, hello Ivan!" Antonio called cheerfully, hugging his tall friend.

"You don't look so good."

"I feel _fine."_

Ivan coughed at the heavy smell of alcohol on his friend's breath.

"Come, on let's get you fixed up," he smiled.

"Um…excuse me, but you two need to come with me-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Ivan picked up the guard and brought him to eye level.

"You let us go, da?" he said, smile growing wide.

* * *

Though it took some time, Ivan managed to nurse his inebriated friend back to somewhat sober health. He explained to Antonio how Lovino had died, and about the existence of Count Adnan.

"I cannot believe it," Antonio said, "My father's murderer has been close the whole time…we must get into the palace!"

"But it is the prince's wedding tonight, Antonio, and the guards are everywhere."

"How many?"

"Um…thirty, usually, but since he's getting married tonight, maybe forty or fifty?"

Antonio frowned.

"At my best I could not take that many."

"I can manage about twenty or so," Ivan said.

"Leaving…twenty or thirty for me?" Antonio asked, and then clutched his head, "Ah, I have no gift for strategy…"

Ivan nodded.

"If only we had Lovino," he said.

Antonio perked up.

"No, not Lovino! The man in black!"

"What?"

"He bested me with steel. He bested you at strength. He must have bested Lovino at strategy!" Antonio shouted triumphantly.

"But how will we find him?"

"Don't bother me with trifles, Ivan," he said, running to the door, "After twenty years my father's death will be avenged. There will be blood tonight!"

* * *

"The Thieves' Forest has been emptied, sir," the captain of the guard told Francis.

"Good, good."

Arthur walked into the room, sulking.

"He's not here," he mumbled.

"It's alright, mon cher," Francis said, putting an arm around Arthur, "Soon we will be married, and you'll be happy, you'll see! And tomorrow we'll go on our honeymoon and all of my ships will be there to see us off!"

"All but four," Arthur corrected, stepping out of Francis' embrace.

Francis looked confused.

"All except for the four fastest that you sent out to find Alfred," Arthur explained.

"Oh, yes, of course, except for those four," Francis amended, laughing.

"You never sent them…"Arthur whispered.

Francis simply smiled.

"I-it doesn't matter!" Arthur cried, "Alfred will come for me anyway, I know it! And when he does he'll get rid of you!"

"I wouldn't say such things if I were you," Francis threatened.

"But it's true!" Arthur kept going, "You didn't send your ships because you knew you'd lose if he fought you!"

"I wouldn't say such things if I were you!" Francis shouted, grabbing Arthur by the arm and dragging him to his room.

Francis slammed the door and locked it, before spinning on his heel and eyeing the forest.

* * *

He burst through the door of the Pit of Despair.

Count Adnan sprang up.

"Francis, we were just about to start another session! Would you care to-"

Francis pushed him out of the way.

Alfred had only just recovered from the last time Count Adnan had used the Machine.

"You truly love each other, and so you might have been truly happy. Not one couple in a century has that chance, no matter what the storybooks say. And so I think no man in a century will suffer as greatly as you will," Francis seethed, "because tonight Arthur will be mine, and you will be DEAD!"

He ran to the Machine and pulled the lever as far as it would go.

The Machine moved quicker than it ever had.

Alfred's screams filled the entire room, and trickled out into the town.

* * *

The two ran through the streets, fighting the crowd that was trying to get into the city to see the wedding.

"'Scuse me, pardon me," Antonio mumbled, pushing past people, "Ivan, if you please?"

"EVERYBODY MOVE!" Ivan shouted.

The crowd parted, leaving a path just wide enough for the two.

"Thank you, Ivan!" Antonio smiled, walking forward.

Just then, the faint sound of a scream reached his ears.

"Ivan, do you hear that?" he whispered, "My heart made that sound when my father was killed, and the man in black makes it now!"

"How do you know that it's him?" Ivan replied, thoroughly confused.

"Because that is the sound of ultimate suffering, and tonight, the man in black's true love is marrying another. Who else has reason to suffer so?"

Without another word, Antonio sprinted off in the direction of the scream.

* * *

"My awesomeness should not be vasted on this," Gilbert mumbled.

Count Adnan had ordered that he fetch a wheelbarrow and cart the man's dead body out from the Pit. Really, what kind of a job was that?

In the middle of his grumbling, two men stepped into his path.

"Where is the man in black?" the shorter one asked.

"I don't know vat you are talking about," Gilbert lied.

"Ivan, jog his memory."

Ivan bopped him on the head with a fist, knocking Gilbert out.

"I'm sorry Antonio," Ivan apologized, "I didn't mean to jog him so hard. Antonio?"

Antonio was kneeling, holding his sword.

"What are you doing?"

"Shh…"

Ivan waited.

"Father, after twenty years, your death will be avenged. But I need the man in black to help us. Guide my sword. Show me where he is…"

Antonio stood up, and began to stumble about the clearing, as if possessed, his sword sticking out in front of him.

Clang!

His sword hit a tree.

Antonio opened his eyes and sighed, leaning against the tree in defeat.

Now the place he had leaned on just happened to be the secret knot, and the door to the Pit opened for them.

They ran into the Pit, and over to where Alfred lay.

Antonio shook him. No response.

He leaned his head down and listened for a heartbeat. Nothing.

Antonio fell to his knees.

"No…" he whispered, "My one chance…it's gone…"

"It will take a miracle for this to work," Ivan sighed hopelessly.

Antonio's face lit up.

"That's it, Ivan! A miracle!"

* * *

_And…cliffhanger! I guess. I'm not so sure this counts…oh well! _


	7. Miracle Max

_Bonus pairing in this chapter! Because I absolutely adore…well…you'll see!_

* * *

Antonio knocked on the feeble wooden door of the small hut in front of him. A small panel opened up and an angry face.

"Vat? Vat do you vant?" a man demanded angrily.

"Are you the Miracle Max that used to work for the king?" Antonio asked.

"Ach! I keep telling people my name's Ludvig, not Max! And yes, I used to work for the king, until his stinking son fired me. Thanks for bringing up such a painful memory! Vy don't you just give me a nice paper cut and pour lemon juice on it, ja? Ve're closed!"

The panel slammed shut. Antonio knocked on it harder. It opened again.

"Go avay or I'll call the Brute Squad!"

"I'm on the Brute Squad," Ivan spoke up.

"You _are_ the Brute Squad!" the man replied.

"Please, señor, we need your help," Antonio pleaded.

"Vy vould you vant someone the king's stinking son fired? I might kill someone!" Ludwig snorted.

"He's already dead," Ivan said.

"Hmm. Suppose it can't hurt. Bring him in."

The door opened, leading into a small cramped room.

"Put him on the table," Ludwig ordered, motioning to a low table in the center of the room.

Antonio and Ivan did so. Ludwig looked at Alfred, poked his face a few times, and looked at the other two.

"I've seen vorse," he said, "Do you have money?"

"Sixty five," Antonio nodded.

"I never vork for so little," Ludwig dismissed, waving his hand, "Except once, and zat vas a very noble cause."

"This cause is noble, señor," Antonio said solemnly, "His wife is crippled, children on the brink of starvation…"

"Vell aren't you a rotten liar," Ludwig said flatly.

"I need him to help me avenge my father, murdered these twenty years."

"You first story vas better," Ludwig snorted, "He probably owes you money, ja? I'll just ask him."

"But he's dead," Antonio pointed out.

"Vell, look who knows so much! It just so happens that you friend here is only _mostly_ dead. Mostly dead is _slightly alive_," Ludwig explained, "He may not have a heartbeat or breath, but something in him is keeping him alive."

Antonio and Ivan exchanged shocked glances. Ludwig, however, had more important things to do.

"Oi! You there, yes you!" he was shouting at Alfred, "Vat do you have that's so worth living for?"

The other two watched, puzzled.

And then, very faintly, Alfred spoke.

"T…rue…l…o…ve…"

"True love, he said, true love!" Antonio cried, "Tell me that is not a noble cause!"

"True love is indeed the greatest cause of them all," Ludwig nodded, "But that's not what he said! He said 'to bluff' and every one knows that 'to bluff' has to do with betting, so he probably just owes you-"

"LIAR!" a voice cried.

A small man who looked remarkably like Lovino, curl and all, ran into the room, pointing his finger accusingly at Ludwig.

"LIAR! He said true love!" the man shouted.

"Get avay, vitch!" Ludwig yelled.

"I'm not a witch," the man pouted, "I'm your wife!"- Antonio and Ivan couldn't believe their ears- "But after what I just heard, I'm not sure I want to be that anymore!"

The man turned to the other two men.

"My name is Feliciano. Please excuse Ludwig's bad attitude. It's just the ever since Francis fired him-"

"I told you not to say that name!" Ludwig shouted.

"What, Francis?" Feliciano challenged.

"Aagh!" Ludwig covered his ears.

"Francis! Francis! Francis!" Feliciano shouted, over and over.

"Wait, you hate Prince Francis that much?" Antonio asked, plan forming.

Ludwig nodded grimly.

"This man here is Prince Arthur's _real_ true love. If you help him, he will stop Francis' wedding," Antonio told him.

"Vait," Ludwig responded, eyes gleaming, "I help him, and Francis suffers?"

"Humiliations galore," Ivan affirmed.

"Give me the money, I'm on the job."

* * *

Feliciano and Ludwig were concentrating on a small lump of what looked like chocolate.

"Um, señor," Antonio cut in, "I do not mean to sound impatient, but-"

"Don't rush me," Ludwig told the Spaniard, "You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles."

Antonio paced around the room.

"There!" Feliciano cried, causing Antonio to spin on his heel.

The lump of…whatever it was was now about the size of a large grape.

"Wait about fifteen minutes and then have him swallow this," Feliciano said, putting the…thing…in a pouch and handing it to Antonio, "He won't be able to move completely for a while, but hopefully he'll be alive enough for you to get that stupid Francis!"

"Gracias!" Antonio bowed, taking the pouch.

Ivan picked up Alfred and they headed towards the castle…

* * *

"Ivan, has it been fifteen minutes yet?" Antonio hissed.

They were crouched down on the bridge that overlooked the castle gate. Guards swarmed the entrance, maybe fifty or so, and far to many for just the three men.

"I have no idea," Ivan replied, "But I can see no harm in trying."

So they propped Alfred up against a wall of the bridge, and slipped the -pill? Let's just call it a pill- into his mouth and waited.

After a few seconds, Alfred's eyes fluttered open and he coughed.

"Who are you?" he demanded, "Where's Arthur? Why can't I move?"

"Shh!" Antonio whispered, "Let me explain…"

He thought for a moment.

"No, there's too much. Let me sum up: Arthur's getting married to Francis tonight. I'm looking for a man inside the castle. The wedding's in half an hour. So all we have to do is get in, break up the wedding, steal the prince, and get out…after I kill Count Adnan."

"That doesn't leave much time," Alfred, "But you didn't tell me why I can't move."

"Because up until just now, you were mostly dead," Ivan supplied.

"Great," Alfred snorted, "So, what are our liabilities?"

"There's only one way in, and that gate is guarded by fifty men," Antonio answered.

"And our assets?"

"Your brains, my steel, and Ivan's strength."

Alfred shook his head.

"Impossible. Maybe if I had more time to plan, but this..."

"You just shook your head! That's wonderful," Ivan said, smiling.

Alfred looked at the man.

"We've only got the three of us against fifty men, the love of my life's about to get married to some frog, and you think a head shake is going to make me happy?"

Ivan shrugged.

Alfred sighed.

"Maybe if we had a wheelbarrow or something…"

"What about the wheelbarrow the albino had?" Antonio supplied, "Ivan, where did we leave it?"

"Over the albino, I think."

"Why didn't one of you say that earlier?" Alfred groaned, "Now all we need is a Holocaust Cloak(1), and this just might work."

"We can't help you there," Antonio sighed.

"Will this work?" Ivan asked, pulling a Holocaust cloak from inside his massive jacket.

"Where did you get that?" Antonio asked, taken aback.

"Ludwig gave it to me. It fit me so well he said I could have it!" Ivan replied with a smile.

"Alright, this could work…"Alfred smirked, "I'm gonna need a sword once we get inside, though."

"Why? You can't move," Antonio said.

"Just in case we get separated," Alfred assured him.

"Alright, but I have a few questions," Antonio said, "If we get separated, how do we find you? When we find you, what do we do? When we get the princess how do we get out?"

"Don't overwhelm him," Ivan scolded, "He's been mostly dead all day."

"We'll figure something out once we get inside," Alfred said, hoping this haphazard plan of is would work.

* * *

Arthur sat in his room, looking out the window, sulking. He was dressed in a pristine white tunic, and a gleaming crown rested on his brow.

"You seem unhappy," Francis commented, gliding into the room wearing a matching outfit (because God knows everything HAD to match at Francis' wedding) and a slightly more ornate crown.

"Should I be?" Arthur snapped.

"People usually are on their wedding day," Francis replied easily.

"Well I'm not getting married," Arthur shot back, "Alfred will be here, just you wait."

With a dignified 'hmph' he walked out of the room.

Francis smiled.

"We'll just see about that…"

* * *

Alfred, Antonio, and Ivan, peered over the wall of the bridge.

The men guarding the gate were bored and restless, not to mention cold.

"Let's do this," Alfred whispered.

Ivan put on the cloak, pulling it over his face.

"How do I look?" he asked.

"Like the Dread Pirate Roberts himself," Alfred smirked, and then turned to the Spaniard, "Antonio, I can't walk yet."

"I think I can carry you and push Ivan," Antonio smiled.

"Then let's get this show on the road."

Antonio grunted and pushed the wheelbarrow forward.

When they were close to the gate, Ivan called out:

"I am the Dread Pirate Roberts! My men and I are here for you!"

"Light him," Alfred muttered to Antonio.

The Spaniard knocked a lantern over onto Ivan. The cloak caught, and in seconds, it was ablaze.

"My men are here! I am here! But soon, _you_ will not be!" Ivan shouted.

The guards dropped their weapons and ran as fast as they could. The captain looked around wildly, and pulled a lever.

"Ivan! The portcullis!" Alfred yelled.

In one swift movement, Ivan doffed the cloak and caught the portcullis mid-fall, and pushed it back up with ease.

The captain of the guard backed up until his back met the gate.

"Where's the key?" Alfred demanded.

"What gate key?" the captain replied.

"Ivan, tear his arms off," Antonio deadpanned.

Ivan smiled wide. Really, really wide.

"Ohyoumeanthisgatekey?" the captain spluttered, pulling a key out from his uniform.

"Much appreciated," Alfred said, smiling.

* * *

Arthur couldn't believe it. Even after everything he'd said, all he' believed…there he was, standing next to Francis as some clergyman babbled on about "twoo wuv" and "Mawwage".

A commotion outside made everyone stop. Arthur felt his heart leap into his throat.

"There's Alfred now," he said, smiling at Francis with fake sweetness.

"No, it isn't," Francis hissed, "I killed him myself! Your precious Alfred isn't coming!"

"Then why do you look so afraid?" Arthur growled back.

Francis didn't reply.

The clergyman launched back into his speech.

"Skip to the end," Francis demanded.

"Excuse me?"

"Man and wife. Say man and wife!" Francis shouted.

"Man and wife," the clergyman repeated.

"Take him to his room," Francis ordered one of the guards, "I'll be there shortly."

Arthur froze…Alfred hadn't come…

* * *

_Surprise! It was GerIta! I swear, they are so cute together… I hope you guys were okay with it too, but I couldn't resist! I needed someone who didn't like France to be Miracle Max (I.e. Germany after WWI, when France had him make cuckoo clocks) and someone to be Germany's wife…and…well…it just worked. You know, I've been thinking about this for a while, but is it strange that I find the thought of Arthur growling sexy? Because I do. ^/^_

_(1) Holocaust Cloak- cloak with the ability to be lit on fire while the wearer is perfectly safe. Good for scaring the crap out of people._


	8. All's Well That Ends Well

_*sigh* Last chapter! I hope you enjoy the ending!_

_Faithfully yours,_

_-Blackkittycatmeow_

* * *

The trio managed to get into the castle without meeting much trouble, and Alfred was uneasy.

"There should've been someone by now," he muttered.

"Let's not worry about that," Antonio said, "For now, let's try to find your prince."

Alfred nodded, though he didn't like where this was going.

His fears were confirmed when Count Adnan appeared in the hall, a number of soldiers with him.

"Kill the giant and the dark one," the Count ordered, "but leave the third for questioning."

The guards charged forward, but Antonio beat them easily. His eyes never left Count Adnan.

"Hello," he said in a low voice, "My name is Antonio Hernandez. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

Adnan turned and ran. In a flash, Antonio was after him.

The count ducked through a door and locked it.

Antonio slammed himself against it.

"IVAN!" he hollered, "I NEED YOU! HE'S GETTING AWAY FROM ME! IVAN!"

Ivan set Alfred down against a wall.

"I'll be back," Ivan told him.

Antonio continued to slam himself against the door.

"IVAN!"

Ivan pushed his friend back and knocked the door down. Antonio nodded his thanks and ran after Adnan.

Sadiq could hear the Spaniard hot on his heels. He ran through corridor after corridor, trying to shake him. Finally, he happened upon the hall that would lead to the great hall…the perfect place for a duel.

He ducked into the room, simultaneously pulling a dagger from his boot.

When Antonio ran into the room, Sadiq was ready. He let the dagger fly and watched with glee as it lodged itself in Antonio's stomach.

Antonio looked down at the hilt and sank to the floor. He grasped it and with a swift tug, pulled it out and cast it to the side.

He glared up at Sadiq.

"So you're still going to fight?" Sadiq scoffed.

"Hello…" Antonio gasped, "My name is Antonio Hernandez. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

"I remember you," Sadiq laughed ,"You're that little Spanish brat I taught a lesson to all those years ago. Have you been chasing me this whole time, just to die here?"

"Hello," Antonio began again, standing up shakily, "My name is Antonio Hernandez. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

Sadiq frowned and drew his sword, sending a stab at Antonio's heart.

Antonio deflected it easily, but it still hit his shoulder.

He stabbed again. This one hit his arm.

"Hello. My name is Antonio Hernandez. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

Antonio slashed at Sadiq. Back and forth across the floor. Antonio thought about his duel with Alfred.

Alfred had been much better than this.

Antonio would win.

"Hello! My name is Antonio Hernandez! You killed my father! Prepare to die!"

"Stop saying that!" Sadiq screeched.

"HELLO!" Antonio bellowed, "MY NAME IS ANTONIO HERNADEZ! YOU KILLED MY FATHER! PREPARE TO DIE!"

He knocked Sadiq's sword away.

"Offer me money," he goaded, slicing the Count's cheek.

"Yes," Sadiq whispered.

"Offer me power. Power too!" Antonio hissed, slicing the other cheek.

"Yes, anything," Sadiq agreed, "Just let me go."

"I want my father back, you son of a bitch," Antonio growled, stabbing Sadiq through the heart.

* * *

Ivan could've sworn he'd left Alfred in that hallway. Where could he have gone?

* * *

The guard shoved Arthur into his room roughly. Tears blurred his vision as he reached for the dagger that lay on his desk.

"Better off dead than to betray Alfred again," he whispered, holding the dagger up to his chest.

"Eyes as green as yours are hard to come by. It'd be a shame to waste them."

"Alfred!" Arthur whirled around.

Sure enough, there he was, lying on Arthur's bed as if he own the place, confident smirk and everything.

"Hey," he said.

"Alfred!" Arthur cried again, kissing his lover clumsily.

Alfred reciprocated the action, and Arthur fell on top of him.

"Ah, go easy on me Arthur," Alfred grunted.

"Is that all you can say?" Arthur pouted, "We finally see each other again and all I get is 'go easy on me'?"

"Right," Alfred smiled, "I missed you, and I love you."

Arthur frowned, tears coming back.

"Oh God, Alfred can you ever forgive me?" he whimpered, brushing them away.

"What horrible sins have you committed lately?" Alfred laughed.

"I got married," Arthur whimpered laying his head on Alfred's chest, "I didn't want to, I swear, but Francis forced me into it!"

"Never happened," Alfred said.

"What?"

"Did you say 'I do'?" Alfred asked.

"W-well no," Arthur admitted, "But some old man said 'Man and wife'!"

"Man and wife?" Alfred snickered, "But if you didn't say 'I do' than it never happened. Wouldn't you agree, your majesty?"

Arthur sat up and looked behind him. Francis was standing in the doorway.

"A small mistake that I intend to fix," Francis sniffed, "But first,"-he raised his sword-"to the death!"

"No," Alfred said, "to the pain."

"I don't think I'm quite familiar with that phrase," Francis said.

"Then I'll explain, and I'll use small words so that even you can understand, you frog faced buffoon," Alfred smirked.

"That may be the first time in my life a man has dared insult me," Francis looked genuinely shocked.

"It won't be the last. To the pain means the first thing you will lose will be your feet below the ankles. Then your hands at the wrists. Next your nose-"

"And then my tongue I suppose," Francis cut in, "I killed you too quickly the last time. A mistake I don't mean to duplicate tonight."

"I wasn't finished," Alfred scolded, "The next thing you will lose will be your left eye followed by your right-"

"And then my ears, I understand," Francis broke in again, "Let's get on with it."

"WRONG!" Alfred shouted, "Your ears you keep, and I'll tell you why. So that every shriek of every child at seeing your hideousness will be yours to cherish. Every babe that weeps at your approach, every woman who cries out, 'Dear God! What is that thing,' will echo in your perfect ears. That is what to the pain means. It means I leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish misery forever."

"I think you're bluffing," Francis said, though his eyes said otherwise.

"It's possible, frog," Alfred smirked, "I might be bluffing. It's conceivable, you miserable, vomitous mass, that I'm only lying here because I don't have the strength to stand. But, then again... perhaps I have the strength after all."

He slowly pulled himself up, and pointed his sword at Francis' chest.

"Drop. Your. Sword."

Francis' sword hit the ground with a clatter.

"Have a seat," Alfred ordered, motioning towards a chair.

Francis did so.

"Tie him up," Alfred said to Arthur, "Make the ropes as tight as you like."

Arthur smiled, and did as Alfred said, making sure that Francis was as uncomfortable as possible.

Just then, Antonio stumbled in. He looked around and got a fair grasp on the situation.

"Is Ivan with you?" Alfred asked.

Antonio shook his head.

"Okay then."

Alfred stumbled a bit and clung to one of the bedposts.

"Help him," Antonio said to Arthur.

"Why does Alfred need help?" Arthur asked, helping Alfred up.

"Because he has no strength," Antonio informed him.

"I knew he was bluffing!" Francis cried triumphantly, "I knew it!"

Antonio flicked his still blood-stained sword at Francis' face.

"Do you want me to finish the job?" he asked coldly.

"No," Alfred shook his head, "I want him to live knowing that we got away."

"Antonio!" a voice called from outside, "Antonio!"

The three went over to a window, to see Ivan standing in the courtyard, four white horses in tow.

"There you are!" Ivan smiled upon seeing his friend, "I was just in the prince's stable, and look what I found! Four horses, one for each of us, if we found Prince Arthur. Hello, Prince Arthur!"

Arthur smiled and waved at the giant.

"We'll be there in a minute, Ivan!" Antonio called.

"No need," Ivan said, "I'll catch you!"

"Ladies first?" Alfred said to Arthur, motioning to the window.

"You git," Arthur frowned, smacking Alfred's arm.

Alfred laughed, a loud clear laugh. It was enough to make Arthur's face flush bright red.

Turning with a 'hmph', he jumped from the window.

True to his word, Ivan caught him, and set him down on one of the horses' backs.

Antonio stepped up to the windowsill, and turned to Alfred.

"You know, I've been in the revenge business for so long, I don't know what I'm going to do with myself," he said, smiling.

"Have you ever thought of piracy?" Alfred asked, "Because I think you'd make a great Dread Pirate Roberts."

Antonio shrugged, and then let himself fall.

Alfred smiled, and jumped as well.

* * *

As the sun rose, our four heroes knew they were safe.

Alfred and Arthur couldn't have been happier, because for the first time in either of their lives, they were truly is said that there are only five kisses that are considered to be the most passionate, the most pure.

The one they shared was most definitely passionate, but it was nothing close to pure…

_~Fin~_

* * *

Now, I'm sure you're thinking, '_That can't be it!'_

And you'd be right.

Arthur and Alfred managed to get married, and they settled on a small farm, similar to the one where they had met, far out of Francis' reach. The two lived out their lives together, blissfully in love.

Antonio took up the mantle of the Dread Pirate Roberts in Alfred's stead, with Ivan as his first mate.

Ivan apparently knocked Gilbert on the head so hard that he forgot who he was. He remembered that he was awesome, of course. But he ended up finding shelter with Ludwig and Feliciano, and he and Ludwig became as close as brothers.

Even Francis ended up happy. After someone found him and cut him loose, his first instinct was to hunt both Arthur and Alfred down, but a meek stable boy managed to convince him not to. Francis became rather attached to the man, whose name was Matthew, and they ended up marrying, and were both very happy together.

~Kay, I mean it this time~

* * *

_What did you think? I couldn't help but put in some FruCan. I love them so! Thank you for putting up with my story for this long, I really hope you liked the way it ended!_


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